


feels like flying

by thespacenico



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: ??? - Freeform, Angst, Canon Divergent, First Kiss, Fluff, Keith is Surprisingly Calm, Lance Kind of Panics, M/M, Reimagined dskjlfdsl, They're soulmates, a little bit of, the elevator scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-14 19:22:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18482758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thespacenico/pseuds/thespacenico
Summary: And somewhere in between all that, Keith’s back had thumped against the wall and he’d scowled at Lance the way he always does, and Lance—for some unknown, godforsaken reason—kissed him.Or kisses him, rather. As in, Lance is currently kissing Keith. Until whatever being it was that possessed him to do such a thing disappears and Lance’s brain finally catches up to what he’s doing.He abruptly pulls away from Keith with a strangled gasp, a feeling of pure horror pulsing through his entire body from head to toe. And Keith—poor, confused, very flustered Keith—is staring back at him, back still pressed flat against the wall, wide-eyed and cheeks flushed, lips parted slightly.Lance has never been a particularly big fan of elevators, but he has never truly feared them more than he does in this very moment.





	feels like flying

**Author's Note:**

> i was feeling inspired today

A very generous amount of strange, odd, unfortunate, we’ll-laugh-about-this-someday sort of things have happened since Lance first walked into the cockpit of the Blue Lion.

     Fly through a literal wormhole? Check.

     Catch a technically ten-thousand-and-some-year-old alien princess in his arms? Check.

     Fight a giant robot? Check. 

 _Form_ a giant robot? Check.

     Heroically save an alien from an explosion and come back to consciousness to blast another alien? Check.

     Flirt with an alien and end up getting chained to a tree? Check.

     Nearly get sucked out into space? Check.

To summarize: a lot of things have happened.

The last thing that Lance had expected to happen (today, at least) was to get stuck in a dark but weirdly glowy elevator in a Castle-That’s-Also-A-Ship on his way to an Altean pool with Keith, his supposed rival, of all people.

But the total, _absolute_ last thing that Lance had expected to happen—as in, never in a million years would he have expected it because never in a million years would he admit to even _thinking_ about it—was to kiss Keith.

In the elevator. Where they’re stuck together for the foreseeable future.

And yet. Here they are.

They’d been arguing about something ridiculous, of that much Lance is sure. Keith wouldn’t stop pacing, and Lance told him to stop because it was making him anxious but Keith simply complained about how he had to watch Lance slide his hands along the walls for ten minutes searching for a ‘secret entrance,’ at which point they started bickering about who knows what because that’s just how they are. And somewhere in between all that, Keith’s back had thumped against the wall and he’d scowled at Lance the way he always does, and Lance—for some unknown, godforsaken reason—kissed him.

Or kisses him, rather. As in, Lance is currently kissing Keith. Until whatever being it was that possessed him to do such a thing disappears and Lance’s brain finally catches up to what he’s doing.

He abruptly pulls away from Keith with a strangled gasp, a feeling of pure horror pulsing through his entire body from head to toe. And Keith—poor, confused, _very_ flustered Keith—is staring back at him, back still pressed flat against the wall, wide-eyed and cheeks flushed, lips parted slightly.

Lance has never been a particularly big fan of elevators, but he has never truly feared them more than he does in this very moment.

“Oh my god,” Lance says, once he can get his mouth to work. He takes a step back.

Keith, evidently, is having the same problem. He blinks, and then finally manages to close his mouth. He swallows. “Lance.”

“Oh my _god,”_ Lance repeats, with feeling, and takes another step back.

To his absolute, complete, and utter horror, Keith takes a step forward. “Lance.”

Lance panics. There’s something about the way that Keith says his name that has him stumbling backward then, desperate to put as much distance between the two of them as possible. “Oh my god, I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have—”

“Lance,” Keith says, _again,_ and Lance’s back hits the wall.

Then Lance can’t tell if the rest of Keith’s steps are fast or slow because he’s too busy trying not to pass out from the sheer terror of the entire situation. All he knows is that suddenly Keith is there, and he doesn’t quite remember when Keith’s hands came up to grip the towel slung around his shoulders, or his eyes being that pretty—objectively!—but maybe that’s just the blue glow of the elevator’s emergency lights bringing out the color in his eyes. Which are looking straight at him. Or into him, or—something like that.

Lance doesn’t really know what’s going on right now.

Keith licks his lips, which, honestly, how _dare_ he do something like that when he has Lance backed up against the wall like this, even if it’s just because his lips are chapped and _no_ Lance doesn’t know that just from kissing Keith hardly thirty ticks ago—

“Lance,” Keith says slowly (again. Lance is this close to losing his mind). Keith’s fingers curl slightly tighter in the fabric of Lance’s towel. “I’m gonna kiss you again.”

 _Oh, thank god,_ Lance’s brain sighs. _I like you, please kiss me, I wanna touch your stupid face and run my fingers through your stupid hair—_

“Okay,” Lance hears himself squeak instead.

Keith studies him then for another long, excruciatingly painful moment, gaze searching for something that he apparently finds because then he slowly leans in and starts to pull Lance down, eyes drifting toward Lance’s mouth, and _oh my god if he takes much longer I’ll just kiss him again myself—_

Then Keith kisses him, and all rational or coherent thought flies out the window. Or, Lance’s brain, to be specific.

This time is… significantly different than the first. Maybe because Lance is actually aware of what he’s doing, or maybe because they were both ready for it this time. But even if Lance was ready, he was in absolutely no way _prepared._

Because the way that Keith kisses him is so completely the opposite of Keith. Keith is all fiery-eyed and impulsive and rough around the edges, yet everything about this is soft, and careful, and gentle, hardly anything more than their lips brushing together. So it shouldn’t leave Lance breathless and his mind foggy and knees weak, but that’s exactly what it does.

There’s a quiet _smack_ as Keith pulls away, but he stays close enough that Lance can still feel his breath on his mouth. He realizes then that his eyes have fallen closed (who knows when), and opens them to see Keith staring back, brow creased, cheeks dusted with a light shade of pink but otherwise looking very—Keith.

Keith’s eyelids flutter, breath hitching a little when he asks, softly: “Was that okay?”

Lance swallows. “Yeah,” he whispers.

Keith releases his hold on Lance’s towel only to let his hands travel up to the sides of his face, eyes always locked onto his. “I’m gonna kiss you again,” he murmurs.

“You said that already,” Lance mutters.

And _this_ time, when Keith leans in to short-circuit Lance’s brain once more, Lance lets himself reciprocate. He lets his body slump back against the wall, lets his hands slide up Keith’s shoulders and into his hair, lets his mind go blank except for _Keith Keith Keith._

It’s always been about Keith.

 _Huh,_ Lance thinks distantly. _Maybe this is why._

Keith tilts his jaw, and when Lance follows the movement, he makes the smallest sound in the back of his throat that has Lance feeling light-headed. And when Keith pulls away for the second time, it’s only because of the primary lights flickering back to life and the elevator jerking into motion, startling them both back into reality.

Lance catches Keith’s arms at the same time that Keith latches back onto the towel around Lance’s neck to steady themselves, and maybe—maybe that’s a good thing, to be suddenly anchored to one another. Because when the elevator slows, and the doors slide open to empty out into one of the relatively dark, empty hallways of the Castle, neither of them move, but Lance panics, gripping Keith’s arms even tighter.

“Don’t run away.”

Something flashes briefly through Keith’s eyes, something like guilt or regret, but it disappears just as quickly as it had come. He shakes his head, slowly. “I’m not running away.”

“Good,” Lance breathes. His heartbeat still can’t seem to even out. He imagines that the scene must look ridiculous, two boys crowded up against the elevator wall in swim trunks and towels, staring at each other with wide eyes and flushed cheeks.

This is so different than anything he’s been used to dealing with, nothing like their diplomatic meetings, or their training exercises, or the intergalactic war that they’d been so unfairly dragged into—wait. War. They’re in a war. They’re at  _war,_ how are they supposed to—

“Oh my god,” Lance says, and Keith’s brow furrows in confusion. Lance wishes he could sink back into the wall. “Oh my god. What are we gonna do?”

Keith shakes his head again, more fervently. “Lance.”

“What are we supposed to—Keith, what are we gonna _do—”_

 _“Lance.”_ Lance’s mouth snaps shut at the sound of Keith saying his name (how many times has it been now?), and tries to meet Keith’s determined gaze without losing all sense of coherence. There’s that Keith-brand spark of fire in Keith’s eyes, the one that tells Lance he couldn’t—won’t—give up on this, even if he tried. “We’ll figure this out.”

And something about that satisfies Lance. The acknowledgment of a ‘we,’ and that there is a something to be figured out, and that they have each other to handle it with. So he takes a deep breath, and offers a small nod that seems to satisfy Keith just as well.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Keith repeats quietly. Like a promise.

Maybe that, Lance thinks, is when he really, truly, genuinely began to fall.

And falling, he learns, is a lot like flying.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on [tumblr](https://www.thespacenico.tumblr.com)!  
> [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/thespacenico/)!  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/thespacenico)!  
> 


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